The Taking Of Motley
by RickyTheGoblinMaster
Summary: The story of how Lord Fear & The Opposition kidnapped Motley between Seasons 6 & 7 of The Greater Game
1. Chapter 1

_**The Taking of Motley**_

_**By Ricky Temple**_

The realm of Knightmare was in a state of flux. The sixth quest season had just come to an end and Lord Fear & The Opposition had been dealt a series of damaging, some people were hoping, possibly even fatal blows.

At the start of the season it had been discovered that the realm of Winteria ruled over by Lord Fear's ally the evil Ice Queen, Aesandra had left dungeon dimensions for the time being. Meaning The Opposition was cut off from a powerful ally and now at the end of the season things had, it seemed, only got worse.

The Opposition aliened Trader Julius Scaramonger had been bankrupted and driven out of business by the oriental trader Ah Wok and he had left town a washed up alcoholic.

Lord Fear's chief Henchman and enforcer The Goblin Master Skarkill had been effectively crippled with both his legs broken.

The Opposition's attempts to negotiate an alliance between them and the covenant of The Grey Sisterhood led by the Witch Queen Greystagg had failed completely.

And to top it all off Lord Fear's newest acquisition, his ultimate weapon the Red Dragon called Red Death had been defeated and killed by Treguard and The Powers That Be on its mission to destroy Dunsenhelm castle. Blasted with a lightning rod it had fallen dead from the sky only to land where…but right on top of The Opposition stronghold and home of Lord Fear himself Mount Fear, destroying it (it was this incident that had crippled Skarkill) and leaving it buried under 200 tonnes of putrefying lizard.

And despite Lord Fear's threat to come back "Bigger, Badder, Bolder & Better Equipped" it looked like The Opposition was in tatters with its ranks now consisting of just Lord Fear himself, the now masterless Goblin horde including the Brothers Grippa & Rhark as well as the Hobgoblin Tiny, the mechanical warrior Dreadnaught and the repulsive thief and vagabond Sylvester "Sly" Hands.

With this depleted numbers and sans a base a lot of people were sure Lord Fear & The Opposition were not long for this world. However Lord Fear was never one to take a setback lying down and he had already left the ruins of Mount Fear and was beginning to set up his new base of operations in a citadel he had created using Techno Magic. He had named it Goth and sat in the very heart of it in his new palace The Black Tower of Goth he was already plotting.

"Ourrrhh Your Lordships!" Sylvester Hands said coming into thrown room. "Oh The Goblins have just about finished off loading all the stuff and watchamjigeers from the carts and what not and the Dred…Dre..Dredy….well that big Metal person like thing yeah…he's just about done moving all yer valuables and stuff like that into the new strong room."

But Lord Fear didn't seem to hear Hands, he was lost in deep thought of a particularly malevolent kind.

"Errrr..your Lordships.." Hands began again unsure if he had been heard. "Oh do Shut Up Hands you dog faced Loon!" Lord Fear snapped. "Can't you see I'm busy trying to devise some devious and malicious way we can strike at Treguard and his Powers That Be mob and show them that The Opposition is still very much in the driving seat in this realm?!"

Hands got an evil leer on his face "Has your Poshness got some right cleaver scheme in mind? Something that's goner rub the smirk off of the Dunggey Master's face?" The vile little thief asked. "Several Hands" Lord Fear said "But the trouble is, all of them are going to take time to implement and I want to strike at them immediately. If Treguard thinks I'm just going to just let him drop Two hundred tones of Barbecued dead Dragon on my head, destroying my beautiful home in the process as well as crippling one of my men and then politely wait till the next quest season begins before I retaliate he's got another thing coming!"

Hands considered this problem as best as his limited IQ would allow him to and his mind threw up only on simplistic idea. "Why don't we nabs one of the Powers That Be Lak..Laki..Leki..La…Well one of Tregaurd's peoples your Lordships." Lord Fear looked up at Hands "The word you're looking for Hands is Lackey and that is just the kind of banal simplistic suggestion I'd expect from you." He said as if brushing off Hands suggestion but he paused to consider it all the same and as he did so a slight smirk began to appear on his lips.

"But still…sometimes even the most simplest of solutions can, when executed correctly, bring a tinge of satisfaction…and it certainly would be one in the eye for The Powers That Be too loose one of their members after there so called triumphant end to the season…yes…yes. You know Hands I can't believe I'm about to say this…but for once you may actually have had a good idea" "Orr Thank you your Lordships" Hands said grovellingly.

"Now whom do we snatch" Lord Fear said softly and menacingly. "Hmmmm" the evil Techno-Sorcerer mused.

"Errrr let's see it can't be Sidriss we've already played that card once and Hordriss will be on the lookout for any more attempts on her. Hordriss himself maybe..no, no that would require very careful and meticulous planning of the kind we just don't have time for right now. That Ridolfo fellow, the troubadour he made a nuisance of himself this season, oh no on second thoughts given his singing skills they'd more likely thank us for taking him off their hands. How about The Greenwarden what's her name Gwendoline she's still proving a thorn in my side in any operation that involves the Green Wood we could nab her…but the loss of Goblins we'd experience trying to trap her would be too high a price to pay at this moment in time so that rules her out. So whom do we nab…I Know! We'll nab the Jester!"

"Oooo Mutley! Yeah he's a good target your Lordships" Hands said nodding "His name is Motley Hands" Lord Fear sighed correcting him "Yeah...that's the feller" Hands agreed "Rights I'll goes and gets me Magic Rope and I'll goes and nabs the clown" Hands said turning to leave.

"You stay where you are Hands!" Lord Fear commanded ".Even though you're vile, repulsive, revolting to look at, nauseating to smell and just a plain old disgusting bit of walking talking detritus. I can't afford to run the risk of losing another minion while The Opposition ranks are still depleted. No until we are back up to full strength there will be no kidnapping missions for you."Hands shoulder slumped sullenly and he turned back to face Lord Fear.

"Beggin yer pardon your Lordships but errr has you sent for a replacement for Master Skarkill yet?" "Yes" Lord Fear replied "Some brigand has taken the now vacant post of Goblin Master calls himself Rackor…or Raptor something like that. Although quite exactly what a brigand would know about the mastership of Goblins is beyond me."

Hands nodded sadly he was goner miss Skarkill. There weren't many people in the world that Hands would have called his friends and even less who would reciprocate that friendship Skarkill had been one of that very select few and now he was gone. He was going to get The Powers That Be for that is nothing else.

"I've also requested a Seneschal" Lord Fear continued "That's a high ranking lackey Hands just for clarification. But to the matter in Hand..errr Hands. We need to lure this jester to somewhere where we can easily nab him." "But how we goner nab him if we can't risks goblins or meself your poshness?" Hands asked. Lord Fear smirked evilly.

"Oh don't you worry about that Hands me old dirt ball" he said with evil glee "During this last season I came into possession thanks to our new departed ally in the market square Julius Scaramonger, which reminds me I must look into getting my hooks into another trader at some point. Anyway Julius got his hands on a rather interesting artefact from times past in the Dungeon and it could prove quite useful in this endeavour."

His smirk grew even wider "and I know just where to set our trap for this jester and how to get him there." This said he turned his attention to The Pool of Veracity and started attempting to communicate with someone, that person being the one sole ally he still had in the realm.

"Brinkatore. Count Brinkatore I wish to speak with you. Oh for badness sake where is the stupid old fool. COUNT… LUTHER… WOODNUTT… BRINKATORE… RE…SPOND…NOW!" Lord Fear said loudly and deliberately. "Hobgoblins either the stupid duffer's going deaf or he's ignoring me and I swear if it's the latter I'll arrange a meeting between him and Dreadnaught, Count Brinkatore!"

Just then the water in the pool began to shimmer and the long, grey and slightly gaunt face of Count Brinkatore appeared within it. "Ahh Count Brinkatore, my dear friend" Lord Fear said with oily charm "I hope your well good count" Count Brinkatore was about to respond when Lord Fear cut him off "But enough with the small talk I have a favour I wish you to do for me." Lord Fear began to explain his plan to the Count.

"Understand Brinkatore?" Lord Fear asked once he had finished his explanation. Upon the Count's acknowledgement of his understanding of the proposed plan and the role he was to play in it Lord Fear smiled. "Excellent Brinkatore then I will leave you to carry out my instructions Ciao" and Lord Fear terminated the communication.

Once the communication had ended Count Brinkatore set about carrying out Lord Fear's instructions and soon the staff of the Brinkatore Estate were making preparations for the estate to host a gala event and open garden party for local gentry and those of means to attend in three weeks time, a dinner party at which the entertainment would be provided by the worlds greatest Jester Motley.

With in days the invites had been sent, a letter requesting Motley's services had been drafted and dispatched and announcements were beginning to be placed in the surrounding towns.

One such announcement drew the attention of one person inpaticuler, a young woman who was a new arrival into the Knightmare realm and the announcement was of great interest to her.

She smiled as she read the announcement "Oh I say, just look at this! Imagine all the rich people that this kind of event will draw. I think this event would jolly well merit me paying it a Visit and reliving the guests and host of some of their excess wealth." The young lady went back to the inn where she was currently residing and began to make plans of her own.


	2. Chapter 2

_**The Taking of Motley**_

_**By Ricky Temple**_

Motley sat on the edge of the bed carefully read the letter from Count Brinkatore, requesting he provide the entertainment at his garden party, again & again looking for any hint of hidden danger or malice within the words and between the lines, but he could not detect any.

"I don't know Moll's" he said to Molly May the young food waitress of The Crazed Heifer, who's living quarters he was currently in and who's bed he was currently sitting on, "It looks like a perfectly legit job."

Molly finished straitening & smoothing out her dress, she then came over and sat down besides Motley on her bed. She also read the letter, "Yes it dose...except for who it is that's offering you the job." She pointed out "The Count is very much in Lord Fear's pocket." "Aye that's true" Motley agreed "But" he added "The old goat has rarely taken any direct role in any of old skull features schemes. Heck in this past quest season even with dungeoneers passing through his castle and lands of his estate he didn't raise a finger to stop them." Motley pointed out.

"But Motley that's because until recently Lord Fear had the likes of Skarkill & Julius Scaramounger to do the dirty work for him." Molly countered "That's not the situation anymore after recent events. You have to think that now The Opposition is going to be desperate and will use all means they still have at their disposal."

Motley nodded "Yeah but work is always slow following a quest season. I can't afford to turn work down it could do my reputation harm if people think I will turn down good work when it is offered." Molly sighed she knew Motley was right about that. "Well just be careful and keep your guard up at all times" Molly said gently putting one of her hands on Motley's. Motley smiled "Cause I will Moll's I always do and besides the event is happening at his estate not his castle. The Estate is in Greenshades and that's hardly The Opposition's backyard especially now they've been dealt such crushing blows."

Molly smiled but she had been right to worry for deep with in the dark hart of The Black Tower of Goth Lord Fear had been putting the finishing touches to his latest weapon which he intended to unleash on Motley. It now stood in the thrown room as its master & creator inspected it.

Sylvester Hands came into the thrown room "Your Lordhships I...Ohhh who's this?" he asked indicating towards the humanoid figure stood with Lord Fear. The figure was of average height and was dressed in the robes of a monk and it had a large hood on its head. "Is this the new Oblin Master or that new errrr seashell person you sent for Lordships?"

Lord Fear rolled his eyes and sighed "Seneschal Hands the word your pea sized brain is trying to send down to your dirty covered mouth is Seneschal and no it is not my new Seneschal nor is it the new Goblin Master. What this is, my faithful odorous glob of grime is the way in which we are going to nab that foolish jester Motley!"

"Ohhh" said Hands not really understanding "…But what's his name likes?" Lord Fear sighed "It doesn't have one yet because it's not a he" "It's a girl yer Fearships?" Hands asked "NO HANDS!" Lord Fear snapped "You monumental block head! Oh would it have been you the Red Dragon crippled and not Skarkill. Least he had half a wit in his head; you're totally bereft of wits altogether." Hands looked glumly down at his feet. "Sorry yer Fearships" he said softly.

"This Hands" Lord Fear continued "Is the end result of my purches from the former 'Merchant Prince' Julius Scaramonger. "Ohhhh yer mean that arti…Atey..Art…errr really old thing you was talking about yer poshness?" "Yes Hands you see what Scaramonger had come into possession of was these." Lord Fear held up what looked like scrolls. "Some spell scrolls?" Hands asked "Not exactly Hands" Lord Fear said with a smirk "These are plans and blue prints, written by my unlamented and thankfully departed predecessor Mogdread. It seems the old foggey wasn't as much a purist as everyone seems to think he was."

"He was dabbling in Techno-Magic, not to the level of an expert among experts like myself and I'll give the old prig this, he had some good ideas. Like this a mechanical warrior, seems he built one during the second phase of the dungeon & let it loose on the little Perishers." "So it's a Mechianical Man?" Hands asked.

"Well that's as close as you're ever going to get to pronouncing that correctly isn't it!" Lord Fear sighed "But yes that's what it is or to be more exact it's MY version. I modified the original design. The original was a very crude design, nothing compared to my Dreadnaught…but for our immediate purposes its simplistic and minimalist design was very practical."

"Beggin yer pardon though yer Fearship but why is it dressed like a monk?" "Two reasons Hands" Lord Fear said. "One, who would ever suspect a man of the church, no one will give our little automaton a second glance in this get up. Second well...just come round here and look under its hood." Lord Fear said with a smirk.

A confused Hands came round and apprehensively lifted the 'monks' hood. "OOORHHH ARRGH!" Hands yelled in shock and stumbled back in fright "Oh its Bloody Orribel!" "Yes" Lord Fear said "It is quite a distinctive face isn't it."

The 'monk's' face was human, but just barely, it was distorted and misshapen in such a way that it left it looking like some kind of grotesque parody of a human face. The 'bone structure' of the head seemed to be misshapen giving it a very unnatural angular look to it, the skin looked like it had partially melted off of the bone and completing this horrific sight was the fact that where there should be eyes there was instead opaque ovals made of glass.

"It's more like a monster then a monk" Hands said "A Monk Monster!" "Hmmmm" Lord Fear said thoughtfully "Monk Monster...simplistic...but I like the sound of it. Yes I'll call this creation The Monk Monster." "But how did it end up looking like that your worships?" Hands asked "An unintended side effect of the modification I made to the original design Hands" Lord Fear said.

"The original design neglected to include any in built weapon system, not even a pneumatic spear. Now I ask you Hands what self respecting Technomancer builds something like this and doesn't include weaponry? Well I corrected Mogdread's little oversight. It was these additions that caused the unique look of our Monk Monster. The more powerful and pure Techno-magic of moiré was to much it seems for the impure and diluted form that Mogdread was dabbling with."

"When I activated The Monk Monster's new weapons system its magical aura clashed with the one generated by the rest of the machine. It caused the exoframe of the head to warp and the synthetic skin to start melting. A simple holding spell was enough to prevent total structure failure though it was too late to stop the damage you can see." "So eeer what weapons did yer give it then Lord F?"

Lord Fear smiled "I've installed a remote controlled Freeze ray unit and remote viewing that is linked back to The Pool of Veracity all we need do is set our Monk Monster hunting and once it gets close enough to that daffy jester we activate the freeze rays and ZZZAP! Instant Jester flavoured popsicle."

Hands & Fear shared an evil laugh "But yer lordships...how are we goner get the jester back here once the Monk Monster has done froze him? Its a long way from Greenshades to here likes and that would give the Powers That Be plenty of time to spring the jester." Lord Fear nodded "Yes Hands this fact has not escaped me and against my better judgement that's where your going to come in."

Hands ears pricked up at this "Once The Monk Monster has done its job I'll open a portal and you scurry your disgusting little self through like some kind of giant and extra scummy rat, through that daft magic rope of yours over the frozen jester and drag him back through the portal." Hands smiled and nodded eagerly "Ohh yes your lordships, I can dose that no problems."

Lord Fear smirked evilly "Good, then just watch the sands fall through the hour glass Good Hands." He said his voice dripping with evil and sadistic anticipation "Because when they run out…Motley's time has also run out!"


	3. Chapter 3

_**The Taking of Motley**_

_**By Ricky Temple**_

The day of Count Brinkatore's gala garden party arrived. Motley as always was a great hit with his jester act enthralling, amusing and entertaining the crowds as they flocked into the estate.

As the guests all came in through the gates no one paid any heed to the hood figure of a monk walking in through the gates.

"There what did I tell you Hands" Lord Fear crowed, as he and his henchman watched the scene unfold through the Pool of Veracity, "Not so much as one second look." "Yeah your poshness" Hands said "Not a soul is paying any attention to The Monk Monster." "Yes but this operation calls for us to get a different point of view on this situation switching on The Monk Monster's remote viewers...now!" As soon as these words left Lord Fear's mouth the view in the Pool shimmered and changed. It now showed the view from the Monk Monster's point of view.

As all this was happening another, this time uninvited guest was also slipping into the estate unnoticed. Though in her case this was literally because no one could see her all a few of the guests felt was a quick light brushing past them movement, kind of like a gentle breeze. "I say" she said quietly to herself "This cloak of invisibility really was a good purchase." She made her way through the crowds , heading towards the main building, every now and then a guest might feel a strange tug at their money pouches and if they bothered to really scrutinise them they may just have noticed that they were suddenly missing a few gold coins for she was cleaver enough never to take so much that it was immediately obvious unless the person really looked.

Motley was coming to the end of his first act "Here's one for you ladies and gents, I got this one from one of those Helmet Heads The Dungeoneer's a while back. Why did the punk cross the road? Because he was stapled to the Chicken!" The anachronistic joke got a polite smattering laughs and chortles from the audience.

Motley rolled his eyes. "Not good to go out on a semi laugh" he said to himself and in response to invoke a proper laugh he did a silly dance and then a cartwheel which he deliberately messed up and ended up in a heap on the stage. This physical slapstick comedy provoked the desired raucous laughter. Motley smiled and bowed "Thank you ladies and gents I'll be back in a little while in the meantime please adventure forth and enjoy the magnificent Surrounds." He didn't notice the figure of a monk trying to make his way closer to the stage.

His parting words said Motley took one last bow and then departed the stage. He began making his way through the crowds.

Just as he had departed the stage the Monk had just managed to make it to the stage. "BLAST!" Lord Fear seethed "Nearly got him! Follow him you mindless mass of cogs and bolts!" The Monk Monster mindless obeyed its master and turned and began to follow Motley through the crowds. "I'm sure we're goner get him this time yer poshness sirs" Hands said trying to sound positive." "Of course we are Hands!" Lord Fear retorted "Go make yourself useful you simpering grease ball, get ready to be dispatched to bring back our victim."

"Oh yes sir your Lordships sir" Hands said and went off to the Black Tower's armoury to get his Magic Rope. He found his Magic Rope laying on the weapons bench he was just about to pick it up when his eyes alighted something else hanging from the weapons rack above the bench. A wicked smile crossed his lips "Yeah much better" he said and unhooked them from the rack, pocketing them in his grimy cape he made his way back to the thrown room.

Motley meanwhile unaware of his dangerous pursuer continued to mingle with the crowds. As he walked among the mass of people he thought he caught sight of someone or something walking alongside him out of the corner of his eye. But when he turned to look there was no one there. He shrugged and looked back ahead of him...but the moment he did once more in the corner of his eye he could see the outline of a person walking alongside him, again he looked and again the outline faded from view once he looked at it fully.

Now rather concerned Motley began to wonder what was going on and one worrying thought came to his mind. "An assassin...it was a trap after all." Motley quickly came up with a hurriedly concocted plan.

As he passed by one of the gaps between two of the tents that had been set up in the garden he quickly shot his right hand out towards the outline he could still see in his peripheral vision and dived in between the tents dragging it with him. There was a annoyed yell from the figure yet it sounded more feminine then Motley would have expected.

The figure began thrashing and struggling this movement making them much more visible even when looked at directly. Using this to his advantage Motley wrapped his arms around it tightly. "Right you backstabbing cut throat" he said "Lets have a look at you." He reached out and pulled off what he thought was the hood.

"Hey what the heck?" he said in surprise at finding himself looking into the angry looking face of a young and beautiful girl. "You Jolly well get your hands off me you blasted Jester. Or I'll ruddy well skewer you!" Motley could see this girl had some knives strapped to her waist so she wasn't making idle threats. "Before I do loveie who are you and what are you doing here?" he said. The girl glared at him "I'm called Stiletta. I'm a thief of the upper second level almost third. I'm just here 'working the crowd' and trying to see if I can get into the main building and loot it a little."

"So you're not an assassin sent by The Opposition?" Motley said Stiletta gave him an offended look "Do I look like some kind of cowardly backstabber!" Motley smiled "No you look like a brunette angel" he said with a flirty wink. Stiletta rolled her eyes "Oh please! I have better taste in men then you. Now look just let me go will you I'm not here to harm you I'm just earning my living." Motley sighed "Oh all right Miss Stiletta if you insist. He let her go Stiletta backed up from him slowly. "Thank you" she said tersely and made to pull her invisibility cloak back up so as to leave.

"By the way" Motley said Stiletta looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "If your looking to get into Brinkatore's house your best bet is to try round the back the big ornate window at the back is always left unlocked." Stiletta looked at him unsure if she believed him. "How do you know that and why would you help me?" she asked.

"Because the Count's wife Lady Vivian Brinkatore always has it left open so her...'gentlemen callers' can make discrete arrivals and if needed hasty exits as to why I'd help Count Brinkatore is one of Lord Fear's Opposition cronies" Motley said "And I'm with The Powers That Be so to see him loose some of his ill gotten wealth is fine by me."

Stiletta smirked "It seems Mr. Jester we share a similar sense of morality at least." Motley smiled "My names Motley" "Well Motley I owe you a favour somewhere down the line and I always repay my debts." This said Stiletta pulled her cloak back around her vanishing from sight and departing.

Motley smiled "I hope she loots the Count good and proper." This said he walked out of the gap between the tents almost walking right into someone it appeared to be a monk. "Oops sorry friar didn't see yer there" he said the hooded Monk stood looking at him in a stony silence. Motley worried he had offended him so decided to try and lighten the mood with a joke.

"Tell me Brother have you ever heard the one about the Christian who couldn't pronounce Christmas?" Motley said leaning on The Monk's shoulder in his normal friendly manner.

Back in the Black Tower of Goth this was what Lord Fear had been waiting for. "Now!" he commanded and immediately The Monk Monster pushed Motley back into the gap between the tents and lifted it's hood. The stunned Motley was in mid joke and just had time to take in its horrific features before the flash of Techno magic generated energy that emitted from its eyes hit him right dead in the face. Instantly hid body was completely frozen unable to move, make a sound or even think the last coherent thought he had going through his mind was the punch line of the joke he had just been about to tell.

Lord Fear smirked as he watched the scene unfold in The Pool of Veracity. "Excellent" he crowed "Excellent it working...now Hands! Hands where are you!" "I'm here your Worshipfulness" Hands said hurrying into the thrown room "Well your need on the Brinkatore estate" Lord Fear said with an evil grin, Hands smirked "Oh The Monk Monster done its work then?" "Yes the Jester is currently rooted to the spot between two tents get there and get him back here quickly."

Lord Fear immediately summoned up a portal and Hands hurried through it. Hands was temporarily disoriented by the magical form of transport but soon his senses steadied and he saw he was indeed on the Brinkatore estate and standing in front of him, with his back to him, was the frozen Motley. The Monk Monster still stood looking at Motley Hands paid it no heed though he was more interested in gloating at the trapped jester.

Hands walked forward and around to face Motley smirking at him "hello there jester" he said "Its you're lucky day" he said rummaging in his cloak "your going on a trip, yeah. Your goner be the first guest at his Lordships new palace." Hands found what he was looking for and brought out a pair of grimy battered old manacles, it was Skarkill's old enchanted Irons "and all compliments of my mate Skarkill" Hands said and began snapping the manacles to Motley's wrists.

He was just about finished when a cut glass voice spoke up behind him "I say you let him go you filthy vagabond!" There was a whistle of air as a blade flew over Hands head "Ohhhhhh who?" Hands turned round and saw a girl, brandishing another blade in her hand, standing behind The Monster Monk. Stiletta had seen The Monk Monster accost Motley and had come to investigate.

"Oooo Get her yer stupid Monk Monster!" he said mechanical weapon began to turn round intending to zap Stiletta with its freeze ray but Stiletta was quicker she sent her blade sailing through the air and it struck The Monk Monster right between its eyes.

There was a fizzing of Techno magic and The Monk Monster fell backwards onto Hands and Motley. Stiletta began to advance on Hands, Hands began panicking and he quickly snapped the last manacle onto Motley's wrists. There was a whoosh of magic as the spell enacted upon the manacles was activated and Hands, Motley and the destroyed Monk Monster were pulled through a portal back to The Black Tower of Goth.

Stiletta had to cover her eyes from the unnatural wind this caused and when she was able to once more look Motley and his attackers were gone. "Dash it all!" she said "They got away...now what do I do. I could stay and loot the Count's house...but I owe that Motley a favour." Stiletta sighed she couldn't not try and help Motley it would violate the thief's code. She sheaved her blade pulled her cloak back around her and hurried out of the estate and made her way to the nearest Powers That Be agents headquarters to report his kidnapped.

However while this was going on Motley found himself in the thrown room of The Black Tower of Goth, still frozen, stood before Lord Fear and the disgusting Sylvester Hands.

"Well, well I have to say Hands even though we lost The Monk Monster all in all this is what you call a successful operation." The vile techno-sorcerer crowed "The Powers That Be's little fool is in my clutches now. You did well Hands…for once." "Oh thank yer your poshness" Hands said grovellingly "Errr so what yer goner do with the jester now like?

"Hmmm yes an interesting problem" Lord Fear mused "Maybe I'll clap him in the new Goblin pens and see if Grippa, Rhark and Tiny find his act amusing." Motley couldn't hear any of this mercifully. Though the effects of the ray slowly began wearing off. Hands noticed his fingers twitch slightly "Oh your Lordships I think the freeze ray thing is wearing off." He said Lord Fear looked at Motley "Shame I liked having him as a statute" just as these words left Lord Fear's mouth the sinister leader of The Opposition got a really evil gleam in his eyes.

"That's it I know what I'll do with him I just acquired a new spell and he'll make the perfect test subject for it. Stand back Hands unless you want to be rooted to that spot forever!" Hands quickly scampered away from Motley. Lord Fear raised his hands and said at the top of his voice "AVASH KARARASH!" There was a blinding flash of light and when it faded where Motley had once stood now stood a stone statue of him.

"There" Lord Fear said with a triumphant smirk "He'll make the perfect decoration for some far flung corner of my Kingdome." He waved his hands and the now stone Motley vanished. "Oh where did you send him your Lordships?" Hands asked "To one of the deeper rooms of the dungeon Hands." Lord Fear said "But, what if one of the dungoneeras finds him?" Hands said "Ha! Fat chance of that I sent him to a room that's no longer visited by the quest and even if by some chance they do find him there's only two ways to break that enchantment either with Reach magic which The Powers That Be don't poses or by the application of enchanted pigeon guano" Hands looked blankly at Lord Fear "That's Pigeon droppings Hands, in your simplistic terminology but since no one but you and I know what has happened to that daffy jester even if they do find him why would they think to sprinkle any kind of magic powder over him hmmm? No my old dirt ball this one….is on The Opposition."

The Powers That Be, acting on Stiletta's report of the kidnapping, searched and searched for Motley for months and month's but to no avail the continued searching right up until the new quest season began and their resources had to be put into helping the Dungeoneer in their quests. All the while deep, deep within the dank confines of the dungeon a statue of a jester stood hidden from view waiting…waiting for the day he would be freed and be able to finish the joke he had started to tell.

"Richard trying sprinkling the pigeon droppings on the statue…"


End file.
